The Adventures of the Peculiar Enchanter: No Path

The Adventures of the Peculiar Enchanter:

No Path

O Elemiere, the Day Star, brighter even than daylight

Always in the sky, always calling, but always too far away

Thy warmth giveth hope, it giveth life to the fallen and the pure

When all seemseth lost, we turn to thee and thou shinest upon us

The last ray of light in a world of darkness

“I, for one, don't see how this plan would be any good. I wouldn't like to deal with any of his sort”, Lord Paddleton shared his opinion rather loudly.

“But haven't you heard Odcysgod's last achievement?” Count Baretone, minister for economics, seemed to be of the other opinion. “He defeated the Tarmon Demon for brick's sake. We could do with that kind of power!”

“That just shows that we shouldn't hire him”, Baron Hilion disagreed. “It's clear that anyone able to outpower and outwit one of hells' abominable demons must be a devil himself. Only with devilry can you fight devilry!”

“And what about that other case where he liberated that village of its terrible plague?” Lord Belos enquired.

“Well, that one is obvious. If one puts the matter down and sees it under the light of reason, he will quickly come to the conclusion that the plague did not occur any earlier than the Magicians' arrival. So, I deduce he caused it in the first place!” Duke Delamon, minister for interior affairs, seneschal and prime minister.

“And why would he do that”, a lowly Baronet, whose name is not worth remembering to write here, “if he was to undo it in the end?”.

“But to make himself look good, of course”, the prime minister replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People like Odcysgod like to show off their powers. It's not good enough for them to just possess them. They want people's admiration and adoration. Vanity is not a sin sorcerers lack”.

“There's no sin that demons lack!” Lord Hamilton spoke fanatically.

More examples of Odcysgod's conduct were brought forth. The Beast of Chertwood; The Necromancer at Yore; the Brayton Bridge Troll. Each and every one of them was dismissed and contradicted. The Beast was just a pet let loose by accident; the story of Yore was so exaggerated not the littlest part of it could any longer be believed at all; the Troll at Brayton Bridge had been taken down, because it had personally offended the Magician and not for any other reason.

The King's councilmen looked to be on the verge of a real quarrel. It wasn't really that uncommon, but the King really wished to avoid it; loud voices overlapping each other brought him head aches. He stood up from his chair with a suddenness that surprised even himself, his several trinkets jingling and his overgrown belly swaying. Once the King had recovered from the resulted dizziness, he raised his hands to call for silence. The men in the room, Aesregnum's most important men, did not seem to notice that gesture and instead seemed to grow louder. The King was getting fast annoyed and he felt a tantrum coming.

Suddenly, silence fell, spreading through the room with such speed it almost felt tangible. The King was satisfied with the respect, authority, awe and even fear his figure inspired. He proceeded to sit down back at his chair, at the top of the oval stone table, as his legs had begun to hurt by the fatigue of having to stand so long. However, when he was sat down, he realised that he was not the one to whom the respect, the authority, the awe and the fear belonged to.

At the centre of the table, the impressive figure of the wrinkliest old man the King had ever seen was receiving the room's whole attention. The wrinkles around the white-haired and -bearded man's eyes shaped a permanent frown that was most unpleasant to look at. However, the brown eyes themselves were a lot more uncomfortable as they focused on him, they seemed to peer right through him and into his soul and they certainly looked judging. The King avoided to look at those eyes, but he could still feel the aura of power and influence the man seemed to emanate; the air they breathed on, the stone of the table, the wood of the chairs they sat on, even the fabric of their own clothes were much more in league with him than they were with any other. The King was surprised at these thoughts -cleverer as they were than he was; he'd never noticed such things before.

Then the man opened his mouth and the silence, a lot like a spell of its own, was broken: “Well, gentlemen! I am here. What did you call me here for?”.

The King was very unsettled by the Magician's presence and he didn't like it. He was the king of this land for brick's sake and he demanded the respect and fear of people. No one had the right to come in his Council Room and make him feel bad about himself. He would not stand for this.

“There's a door, you know”, he finally managed to say in an irritated manner, though his mouth felt a tad too dry.

The King's irritated response was the signal to make several of the people present show their disapproval of Odcysgod's presence in one way or another -none of them to open. He was after all a demonous man who wouldn't think twice to hex them. That much they all knew: never insult a sorcerer.

“Once you call for me, you sign up to my rules”, the Magician spoke.

That infuriated the King. He was the King; he should have the upper hand; he sould set the rules. Then, why did he feel like an insect before that man? He didn't like that feeling. He wasn't used to wondering about who and what he was. All his life, he was the Prince or the King and that was the end of it. Everyone knew what that meant about who he was. But now that man came here and by just focusing his judging eyes on him, defied all of that. All of this thought was highly unnecessary. Why did he have to wonder about himself when he knew everything there was to know? It made his head hurt.

However, the King had not brought Odcysgod there to quarrel. Usually, those who made the King's head hurt, would lose their own head as just punishment. However, now he had to be patient. He swallowed his anger -and his confusion- and began to talk.

“Odcysgod. You and I might look a lot different, but I think in reality we are much the same. We seek for power where we can get it, not being hindered by ethical qualms. Some people may not be able to handle such kind of power, but we are superior and it is our duty to seize that power and use it as our infinite wisdom commands”.

“Do you attempt to flatter or insult me? Taking the comparison into account, I'd incline towards the latter”.

What had the Magician said? What did he mean? He thought there was something insolent about the response, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The King had very carefully prepared his brilliant speech and he was very proud of it. Now, the Magician was interrupting him with comments he didn't know how to take and confused him. He had not predicted that. That man had such an irrational manner. No one had interrupted him before. Did this man not think he was an object of admiration and respect? He was a King. What else did it take to receive someone's respect? Thoughts he'd never had before suddenly flooded his mind and caused him acute headache. This was completely unnecessary. Why did the Magician have to make it so difficult?

“Don't interrupt me, please”, the King said wiping some beads of sweat off his forehead.

“Well, what I was saying? Yes, right. Well, I... I don't fear to strike deals with the devil. I mean, you don't fear to make deals with him”, his throat was drier than before, “and I... ah, am not afraid to surround myself with people of power”.

“Accusing one of striking deals with the devil isn't the best way to approach one when you want to ask a favour, you know”, Odcysgod replied, while he sat on Lord Paddleton's head and placed the bottom of his staff on Lord Belos's; he had obviously heeded no attention to the King's request and now was actively showing disrespect to everyone in the room; the King had not been sure about the Magician's associations with demonic powers, but now he became more and more convinced.

Before the King could continue, though, Baron Hilion stood up and looked at the Magician with a mix of hatred, disgust and fear, “Accusing you of striking a deal with him?! Ha! You are a devil, yourself”.

“There is only one devil and I don't think I have his sense of fashion. Evil though he may be, I've seen many interpretations that show him very stylish; even I got a little jealous”.

“Listen at how he speaks! He disregards every notion of prudence and is full of sinfulness. It is truly a spawn of hell that we speak to!” Lord Hamiltion spoke.

“That is debatable”.

“If you're not a hellish demon, then I'm a squirrel”, Lord Hamilton responded.

“Then, you must be a squirrel, I'm afraid. I'm not here to debate whether I've given my soul to the devil or not, though. It's funny that you should speak of squirrels, by the way. I was just thinking about them”.

Outrage followed that statement. Half the councilmen began to yell their opinion as loudly as they could and that caused the other half to join, too; how could their superior opinion be left out of this gentleman-like discussion? The King attempted in vain to calm everyone down. This went on for a minute or so and then all of a sudden everyone stopped talking, leaving a deafening silence to fill the room instead.

Odcysgod finally got up from Lord Paddleton's head and looked at his honourable hosts. Their eyes, all targeted at him, had looks of increased fear and anger. Some of them were still opening and closing their mouth, as if to talk, but no sound would come out.

“Sorry I had to do that. Funny though it may have been at the beginning, it got tiring quickly”.

“Now, deary kingy. Why don't you cut to the chase and tell me what exactly you want from me? My time is precious and I don't mean to spend it on listening to unoriginal speeches about how the devil and I are one and the same”.

With some effort, the King finally found his voice again. A few coughs showed that the rest of the men around the tables were slowly retrieving their voices again, but no one spoke; sinful though the Magician may have been, they wished to avoid his sorcery.

“I am sure you are aware of the situation of our war with Argenturegnum. We have the capacity to pay you a great sum, if you assist us in defeating our enemies”, the King said, though he was frustrated he didn't get to finish his prepared speech, on which he'd put so much effort; he had even edited several parts after it was given to him.

The Magician's expression, as soon as he heard those words, became thrice scowler, thrice crosser, thrice more judging and the King felt as if he'd been hit by lightning.

“I do not meddle with silly wars between minifigures. Do not waste my time”.

The King was very much afraid of the Magician, but he could not contain his anger anymore.

“I knew it! Your Argenturegnum origin makes you side with them. So, we have you as an enemy then. Not a good choice, sir. Not a good choice!”.

The Magician had begun to turn around to leave, but now he turned back to look at the King with the most hateful expression he could muster and began to walk towards the fat man.

“Let me rephrase. I would never even consider for a single moment to consider working with a filthy little fat insignificant, yet arrogant as it gets insect like you!”.

With every word, Odcysgod made a step towards the King and now he'd bent his head looking at him face to face, their eyes barely not touching. The King realised that he did not see hatred in the man's eyes, but just pure disgust.

The King angrily began to stand up to yell his reply, but he never did. Instead there was a low thump, as a squirrel carven out of wood fell on the King's now vacant throne, accompanied by the clang of the King's now headless crown, landing next to it and moving cyclically until it balanced into stillness.

The Magician looked up from the squirrel statue and examined the whole room. No glance was returned, as the Council Room was now only occupied by him and some dozens of wooden squirrels. With a satisfied smile on his face, Odcysgod began to walk away until...

“You cursed the King!” someone called fearfully.

Odcysgod turned around to see a guard trembling in fear, pointing his pike in the former's direction. The Magician's examination had been mistaken. A single guard still remained.

“Who?”.

“The King... and everybody else!”.

“That rings a bell, I guess... Why are you not a squirrel, too?”.

“I don't know”.

“Well, I guess I must have liked your face when I saw it. Well, goodbye then. My sincerest wishes to the wife. You're married, right? Ah, maybe not. Bye!”.

“But what about the King?”

“You seem to have an obsession about Kings. It's not healthy. You should see a doctor”.

“But you cursed the King!”.

“We already established that, I believe”.

“What about the Kingdom? It needs a King”.

“You could always become a plain Dom, you know. But I see your point”, Odcysgod walked back to the King's throne and grabbed the crown. “Here you are”. He tossed the crown to the guard, who had to let his pike fall to save the crown from its doom.

“What? Why do you give it to me?”.

“Come on. Wear it. I'm sure it will suit the new king a lot better than a common helm”.

“But I am not king!”.

“I'm sure you'd do a lot better than that guy. Well, I haven't got all day. Au revoir!”

The guard found himself speechless and Wiz Ardon finally left the room uninterrupted.

Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)***---***Wiz Ardon, the Peculiar Enchanter (talk)